Ecclesiastical History of England, Volume 5—The Church of the Revolution

by John Stoughton

CHAPTER III.

England was now in the midst of a revolution. What was its character? Its ecclesiastical aspects alone demand our attention, but these are so closely connected with others, that we shall be compelled to look at them all together. Politics and religion were inextricably interwoven. They had been so in earlier changes. Changes mainly religious were also political; changes mainly political were also religious. Lollardism wrought a vast religious revolution, but though it principally aimed at purifying the Church, it sought, as a means to that end, the amendment of the State. The Reformation was pre-eminently an ecclesiastical movement, but its political entanglements are obvious to everybody. The Civil Wars were struggles for civil liberty—for the rights of the people against the oppression of the Crown; but the religious spirit, at first hidden in the heart of those conflicts, was so strong, and soon burst out in other forms so conspicuously, that the Commonwealth of England and the Protectorate of Cromwell became entangled with ecclesiastical and theological controversies. The Revolution of 1688 came in the wake of the Puritan movement.

1688.

The union between Church and State, which runs back through English history to its earliest days, rendered this intermingling of interests an unavoidable necessity. Great movements in the Church affected the Government; great changes in the Government affected the Church. Whilst this union is obviously a cause of additional complexity, no thoughtful person can fail to discover in even the simplest principles of polity and doctrine, forces which are sure to touch society in its temporal interests, and render inevitable political developments of religion and religious developments of politics. If the Church were separated from the State to-morrow, a connexion between religion and politics would remain.

The two great political Revolutions of England in the 17th century sprung from religious feeling, from religious antipathies, from religious aspirations. Fiery impulses, kindled by faith, did more to scorch and destroy civil despotism than any constitutional traditions, any maxims of secular policy. Religion was the prime mover in the events of 1688. Not only did ministers of religion take part in it, but religion itself entered deeply into the political question. When moving in one direction the Popery of James prompted him to play the despot, and when moving in another direction the Protestantism of his subjects impelled them to fight for their liberties—the two forces came in contact, and issued in a crash, bringing about the King’s downfall and the Prince’s elevation. The same influences led to a settlement of the long-debated question of prerogative—they consolidated the power of Parliament, they created the Bill of Rights; without such religious enthusiasm as then existed, it may be doubted whether such a Revolution would have been possible; and as it sprung from religious causes, so the Revolution produced religious results. It checked the progress of Popery, it inaugurated a new form of Protestant ascendency, which has lasted down to our own time; it altered the position of the Church Establishment; it materially modified the Act of Uniformity; and it legally secured toleration. These subjects will claim attention as we proceed, and a fuller estimate of the character of the Revolution had better be deferred for the present.

CHARACTER OF THE REVOLUTION.

The Peers met in their own House on the 22nd of December. Nothing of moment passed. The day before Christmas-day they met again, and we find Clarendon, with a lingering regard for the Stuart family, asking for an inquiry into the birth of the Prince of Wales, when Lord Wharton, an old Puritan, indignantly replied, “My Lords, I did not expect, at this time of day, to hear anybody mention that child, who was called the Prince of Wales; indeed I did not, and I hope we shall hear no more of him.” It was at last decided that an address should be presented to the Prince of Orange to take on him the Administration of affairs, and to issue circular-letters to the counties, cities, universities, and cinque-ports, to send Representatives to a Convention at Westminster on the 22nd of January following.[79]

The Archbishop did not attend. Clarendon and the Bishop of Ely sent for him, “but the King’s being gone had cast such a damp upon him that he would not come.”[80] James, soon after his flight, had written to the Primate, informing him that, but for his hasty departure, he should have explained the reasons of his becoming a Roman Catholic; that although he had not thought proper to do this on a former occasion, when his re-conversion had been attempted, yet he never refused speaking freely with Protestants, especially with His Grace, “whom he always considered to be his friend, and for whom he had a great esteem.” His own “conversion had taken place in his riper years, and on the full conviction of his mind as to the controverted points.”[81] Sancroft, with all his weakness, narrowness, and obstinacy, had a kindness of heart, which, in spite of the treatment received from the fallen Monarch, inspired compassion for him in a season of deep adversity.

1689.

Clarendon busied himself in interviews with the Prelates, and we find that on the 29th of December, he and the Bishops of St. Asaph and Ely were together reading over the King’s reasons for leaving Rochester. Different opinions of his conduct appear, together with Clarendon’s predilections in favour of his old master, in the following passage of his Diary—a Diary which sheds much light on that changeful time:—“The Bishop of Ely and I were moved, but the Bishop of St. Asaph took the paper, and began to comment upon it, saying it was a Jesuitical masterpiece. I think I never heard more malicious inferences than he drew from the King’s expression in that paper. Good God! where is loyalty and Christian charity.”[82] On New Year’s-day, 1689, amidst a hard frost, Clarendon’s lingering loyalty to James did not prevent his paying court to William; and afterwards visiting Sir Edward Seymour, he heard him say, amongst other things, the countenance shown by the Prince to Dissenters “gave too much cause of jealousy to the Church of England,” and if that Church were not supported, England would “run into a Commonwealth, and all would be ruined.”[83]

Another interesting peep into ecclesiastical secrets is afforded by Clarendon, whose report, for the sake of accuracy, had better be preserved in his own words:—

CHARACTER OF THE REVOLUTION.

“I went to dinner at Lambeth: Dr. Tenison with me. We went over the bridge, by reason the river was so full of ice, that boats could not pass. After dinner I spoke to the Archbishop (as I had done several times before) of going to the Prince of Orange, or sending some message to him by some of the Bishops: for he had yet taken no notice at all of him: but he was positive not to do it, for the reasons he formerly gave me. We then spoke to him of the approaching Convention, and whether he would not think of preparing something against that time in behalf of the Dissenters. Dr. Tenison added, it would be expected something should be offered in pursuance of the petition which the seven Bishops had given to the King: for which they had been put into the Tower. The Archbishop said, he knew well what was in their petition; and he believed every Bishop in England intended to make it good, when there was an opportunity of debating those matters in Convocation; but till then, or without a commission from the King, it was highly penal to enter upon Church matters; but, however, he would have it in his mind, and would be willing to discourse any of the Bishops or other Clergy thereupon, if they came to him; though he believed the Dissenters would never agree among themselves with what concessions they would be satisfied. To which Dr. Tenison replied, he believed so too; that he had not discoursed with any of them upon this subject; and the way to do good was, not to discourse with them, but for the Bishops to endeavour to get such concessions settled in Parliament, the granting whereof (whether accepted or not by the Dissenters) should be good for the Church. The Archbishop answered, that when there was a Convocation, those matters would be considered of; and in the meantime, he knew not what to say, but that he would think of what had been offered by us.”[84]

1689.

What the thoughts of the Archbishop were just then with regard to Dissenters, it is impossible to say. It is otherwise respecting his opinion upon another point.

All Protestants, high and low, had united for some months in one thing—the desire for a Revolution which should put a stop to the reign of prerogative, and place the liberties of the country upon a legal basis. But what exactly was the Revolution to be? Who was to be Ruler in the room of James? As to this pressing subject, opinions ran in divergent lines. The Archbishop, suffering from ill-health, worried by distractions around him, shut himself up in his Palace that cold Christmas-time, and covered closely, with his own neat hand, twenty-five pages of paper, from which we learn how he looked at the politics of the hour. Gazing at the engravings taken from his portrait in Lambeth Palace, we see him—with his simple, honest face, and a close black cap, such as gives the wearer a Puritan look, but for a pair of lawn sleeves sometimes worn—industriously putting down the pros and cons of the puzzle.

CHARACTER OF THE REVOLUTION.

The King is gone. The Government is without a pilot. The captain of a foreign force is at the head of affairs. How is the Government to be settled legally and securely? Shall the commander of the foreign force be declared King, and solemnly crowned? Shall the next heir—the Princess Mary (the Prince of Wales is not mentioned)—be Queen, her husband acquiring an interest in the government through her right? or shall the King be declared incapable of personal government, the commander being made Custos Regni, who shall administer affairs in the King’s name? “I am clearly of opinion,” writes the perplexed critic, “that the last way is the best, and that a settlement cannot be made so justifiable and lasting any other way.”[85] We cannot proceed through the prolix dissertation in which Sancroft endeavours to support his conclusion. Every word proves his simplicity and conscientiousness, but a weaker set of reasons, and a set of reasons more pedantically expressed, one rarely meets with. Both the moral and intellectual sides of the man’s character are apparent throughout. But for the theory of the divine right of kings, and the subject’s duty of passive obedience, which acted as a spell upon his mind, it would be impossible to conceive how a person of ordinary intelligence could advocate such a scheme as he did. Before long it must have been found unmanageable, leading to a second Revolution. While professedly concocted for the purpose of maintaining James’ kingly rights, it stripped him of all power; and curiously enough, as appears on a moment’s reflection, it is open to precisely the objections which had been brought against the Puritan Commonwealth’s-men, who administered government against the King in the King’s own name. To call James sovereign, with William as Custos Regni, was to use words in the way Pym and Hampden and Cromwell had done. What makes Sancroft’s conduct the more inconsistent is, that he and his party supported the Act of Uniformity, which required the Clergy to abhor that traitorous position of taking arms by the King’s authority against the King’s person, or against those commissioned by him. Must not William have done this, if Sancroft’s advice had been adopted? Must he not have defended his Regency by force against the nominal Monarch, who would have regarded that Regency as a flagrant usurpation?

1689.

The Archbishop anxiously consulted with some of the Bishops of his province touching this subject, and when the meetings became publicly known, they received the name of the Lambeth, or Holy Jacobite Club.[86] They did not all agree. Four of them went home one day from Lambeth, in the coach of Turner, Bishop of Ely, deploring they should disagree in anything, and especially in such a thing as that which all the world must needs observe. Turner wrote immediately afterwards to the Primate, asking him to draw up propositions against deposition and election, or anything else which would break the succession, because he was better versed than his brethren in canons and statutes, out of which the propositions ought to be drawn. Ken, he said, had left a draft with him, which might facilitate a completion of the task. The afternoon of the same day, Turner was to hold a meeting in Ely House, at which Patrick, Tenison, Sherlock, Scott, and Burnet were to be present, as well as two Bishops—St. Asaph and Peterborough. These men were of diverse opinions; how they got on together we do not know, but it appears some underhand work occurred in reference to James on the part of the Bishop of Ely. He enclosed, in his letter to Lambeth, a paper to be kept very private, of which he says, it “may be published one day, to show we have not been wanting faithfully to serve a hard master in his extremity; and for the present it will be proof enough to your Grace, that although I have made some steps, which you could not, towards our new masters, I did it purely to serve our old one, and preserve the public.”[87] At any rate, Sancroft appears more straightforward in this business than some of his brethren.

CHARACTER OF THE REVOLUTION.

Clarendon and Evelyn met at Lambeth Palace the Bishops of St. Asaph, Ely, Bath and Wells, Peterborough, and Chichester. They prayed, dined, and discoursed together. Outside, some persons were disposed to have the Princess proclaimed Queen without hesitation; others inclined to a Regency; a Tory party wished to invite the King back upon conditions; Republicans preferred to have the Prince of Orange constituted an English Stadtholder; and the Popish party simply aimed at throwing the whole country into confusion, with the hope of something springing out of it to serve their ends. Evelyn records that he saw nothing of this variety of objects in the assembly of Bishops, who were unanimous for a Regency, and for suffering public matters to proceed in the name of the King.[88] Such perfect unanimity, however, as Evelyn supposed, could not have existed if Clarendon be right, who says he feared the Bishop of St. Asaph had been wheedled by Burnet into supporting the transfer of the Crown, and would be induced to make the King’s going away a cession—a word Burnet fondly used.[89]

1689.

The presence of the Primate at the Convention about to be held was of the first importance, and Clarendon earnestly urged his attendance; but the obstinacy of the one equalled the importunity of the other. Sancroft would not go, nor would he visit His Highness. “Would you have me kill myself?” he petulantly asked his noble friend; “do you not see what a cold I have?” “No,” said the Earl; “but it would do well if you would excuse your not waiting on the Prince, by letting him know what a cold you have, and that you will wait on him when it is gone.” All the reply he could get was, “I will consider of it.”[90]

Whatever might be the opinions of the Lambeth party, the Bishop of London shared neither in their counsels nor in their sympathy. He wished to see the Princess Mary Queen Regent, leaving her at liberty, if she liked, to bestow upon her husband, by consent of Parliament, the title of King. Nor did the prevalent desire of the councillors of the Archbishop, for a Regent who should rule in the King’s name, satisfy all James’ Anglican adherents. Sherlock, Master of the Temple, had at his back a large number of Divines, and he contended for inviting James back to Whitehall, with such stipulations as would secure the safety and peace of the realm—an utterly Utopian idea. Burnet, on the other hand, talked of William’s having acquired a right to the Crown based on conquest—a notion scouted by most Englishmen. Nine-tenths of the Clergy were for upholding the cause of hereditary monarchy; but this large majority broke up into several sections, nor did the remaining tenth part entirely agree.

CHARACTER OF THE REVOLUTION.

Neither were Nonconformists of one mind. Some were so engrossed in the discharge of spiritual duties that they paid surprisingly little attention to the questions of the day. The biographer of Oliver Heywood informs us that little remains in his papers to show what he thought of the Revolution, politically regarded. His mind rested on one point—the liberty of preaching, and it seemed indifferent to him whether it came by a Royal Declaration or by an Act of Parliament.[91] Matthew Henry states that it was not without fear and trembling his father Philip received the tidings of the Prince’s landing, “as being somewhat in the dark concerning the clearness of his call, and dreading what might be the consequence of it,”—that he used to say, “Give peace in our time, O Lord,” was a prayer to which he could add his Amen; but he stopped there. However, when the Revolution was accomplished, he rejoiced in the consequences, and joined in the national thanksgiving.[92]

Another class of Nonconformists were in an awkward position. Their fault had been that they identified themselves with men and measures out of all harmony with their own principles. William Penn, Vincent Alsop, Stephen Lobb, and others had signed obsequious addresses to James. They had blindly credited him with a love for religious liberty, and had really, though not intentionally, upheld his despotism. But in this emergency they presented no word of condolence to the man whom they had helped to befool, nor did they attempt anything to save him from his impending fate. A double inconsistency marked their conduct: first, they contradicted their profession of liberal principles; next, they contradicted their profession of personal regard. They were galled by the reproach of enemies, also they must have felt reproaches of conscience.

1689.

Another class of Nonconformists had, without any compromise, availed themselves of the liberty offered them, though disliking the unconstitutional quarter whence it came. When the Revolution took place, most of these, and others who survived to witness it, were delighted and thankful. What John Howe did appears from what I have said already, and shall have to say hereafter. Baxter had become too old and infirm to take any active part in public business. Fairclough, Stancliffe, and Mayo, as we have seen, joined Howe in the clerical address to William on the 21st of December; others presented congratulations afterwards.

If Protestant Nonconformists formed a twentieth part of the population, the community to that extent may be reckoned as rejoicing in the downfall of James; probably by far the larger part supported the claims of William; yet a few old Republicans—Independent and Baptist—would, I apprehend, have preferred to see a Commonwealth, with the Prince of Orange in a presidential chair, such as the Lord Protector Cromwell had occupied.

It is no part of my task to describe minutely the method by which the new settlement was effected: an outline is sufficient. A meeting had been summoned by His Highness for the 26th of December, 1688, to consist, first, of all such persons as had been Knights or Burgesses in any of the Parliaments of Charles II.; and next, of the Lord Mayor and Aldermen of the City of London, with fifty of the Common Council chosen by the whole body. This mode of proceeding appears remarkably conservative, and so far was in harmony with all the great changes wrought in the political government of this country.

CHARACTER OF THE REVOLUTION.

When those who formed this meeting mooted the question, “What authority they had to assemble,” they agreed, “that the request of His Highness the Prince was a sufficient warrant,” and proceeded to entrust him with the administration of public affairs until a Convention should be held, which he was to call by writs addressed to the Lords temporal and spiritual, being Protestants, and to the counties, universities, cities, and boroughs of England.[93]

A Convention being elected, the members met on the 22nd of January, 1689. It was composed of Protestants alone. These Protestants being chiefly Whigs, and those Whigs numbering an immense majority of Episcopalians, perhaps not more than twenty Nonconformists were returned—a fact which ought to be carefully borne in mind.

The day on which the Commons assembled, the Lords also appeared, to the number of about ninety, of whom sixteen were spiritual Peers. No prayers were read; the first thing done, after a short letter from the Prince had been laid on the table, was the appointment of a day of solemn thanksgiving.

Eleven Bishops were selected to draw up a form for the purpose, and it does not appear that any of them scrupled to undertake this service.[94] The 30th of January fell on a Sunday; and in such a case it had been arranged that the office for Charles’ martyrdom should be used on that day, and the observances of the fast transferred to the next. On the 30th, however, Evelyn notices that “in all the public offices and pulpit prayers, the collects and litany for the King and Queen were curtailed and mutilated.” On the 31st the thanksgiving set aside the fast. Burnet preached before the Commons, saying, “You feel a great deal, and promise a great deal more; and your are now in the right way to it, when you come with the solemnities of thanksgiving to offer up your acknowledgments to that Fountain of Life to whom you owe this new lease of your own.”[95]

1689.

The Bishop of St. Asaph, whose political sympathies have been indicated, was appointed to preach before the Lords at Westminster Abbey on the 31st, but according to Clarendon, Mr. Gee took his place.[96]

The House of Commons, after the customary formalities, and the election of Mr. Powle as Speaker, and an expression of concurrence in the Lords’ order respecting a day of thanksgiving, proceeded, on the 28th, to debate on the state of the nation. Amidst multifarious topics, Popery, the Church, and the divine right of kings were prominent; and the next day Colonel Birch, the Puritan, gave his view of past and present struggles by saying, “These forty years we have been scrambling for our religion, and have saved but little of it. We have been striving against Antichrist, Popery, and Tyranny.”[97]

The House voted that King James II., having endeavoured to subvert the constitution of this kingdom by breaking the original contract between King and people, and, by advice of Jesuits and other wicked persons, having violated the fundamental laws, and withdrawn himself out of the Kingdom, had abdicated the government, and that the throne was thereby vacant. The next day it was resolved that it had been found by experience to be inconsistent with the safety and welfare of this Protestant Kingdom to be governed by a Popish Prince.

CHARACTER OF THE REVOLUTION.

Thanks were given to the clergymen who had assailed Popery, and had refused to read the King’s Declaration.[98] Things deemed necessary for better securing religious liberty and law were reported from a Committee, who particularly specified, “effectual provision to be made for the liberty of Protestants in the exercise of their religion, and for uniting all Protestants in the matter of public worship as far as may be”—in which provision, are found germs of the Toleration and Comprehension Bills.

The Lords at once agreed with the Commons in their vote for a Protestant succession; but about the vote declaring the throne vacant, much discussion arose. Without formally admitting that the throne was vacant—only for the present supposing it to be so—they wished to determine, first, whether supreme power for the present ought to be devolved on a Regent or on a King. This point had been keenly debated by Sancroft and his brethren. He was not present now, but they were; and in the minority of 49 for a Regency against 51 for a King, occur the names of thirteen Prelates, including the Bishop of St. Asaph, who in this matter had not been “wheedled” by Burnet, as Clarendon surmised. Indeed, the prejudice conceived against a deposing power, as a Popish art, had so impressed the minds of the Clergy, that no Bishop approved of filling the throne anew, except the Bishops of London and Bristol.[99] The question raised in an abstract form—whether or no there was an original contract between King and people—involved a controversy touching divine right, which most of the Bishops had maintained. For the principle of a social compact, 53 Peers voted against 46, the Bishops being included amongst the latter. The idea of a contract being adopted, nobody could dispute that James had broken it; but the Peers decided to substitute the words, “deserted the Government,” for the Commons’ phrase, “abdicated the Government;” nor would the majority allow the word vacant to stand, inasmuch as, by a constitutional fiction, the King never dies; and in the present case, so some contended, the Crown legitimately devolved upon the Princess of Orange—the claim of the infant Prince of Wales being given up by all parties. The two Houses were thus at issue on a fundamental point; and the London citizens became alarmed. The dispute found its way into the coffee-houses, into groups walking and lounging in the parks, and into private families, Whigs and Tories debating the problem as a vital one. The people assembled at the doors of the Convention to present petitions for the accession of William and Mary to the throne; they loaded with curses members crossing the threshold, or showered upon them benedictions, according as they believed them to stand affected towards the momentous matter in dispute.[100]

1689.

A conference ensued between the Houses. The Bishop of Ely strenuously argued against using the word abdication, or regarding the throne as vacant; he hoped that Lords and Commons would agree in this, not to break the line of succession, not to make the Crown elective.[101] He wished to save the divine right. By some persons the idea was entertained of making William sole King—an idea which Burnet resisted, heart and soul, in a conversation held with Bentinck, the Prince’s principal friend.[102] Amidst the heats of this debate, the Prince thought it time for him to express his sentiments. It had been proposed, he said, to settle the Government in the hands of a Regent;—that might be a wise project. It had also been suggested that the Princess should succeed to the throne, and that he, by courtesy, might share in her power. Her rights he would not oppose, her virtues he respected. But for himself, he would accept no dignity dependent upon the life of another, or on the will of a woman. Should either of the schemes be adopted, he would return to Holland, satisfied with the consciousness of having endeavoured to serve England, though in vain.[103]

CHARACTER OF THE REVOLUTION.

William’s decision took effect, and the conference ended in dropping what was theoretical, and in coming to a practical resolution—that the Prince and Princess of Orange should be declared King and Queen. The Lords carried this by 62 against 47. Forty of the latter protested, amongst whom were twelve out of the seventeen Bishops present. The five who went with the majority were Compton, Lloyd of St. Asaph, Sprat, Hall, and Crew.[104] Crew, the time-serving Bishop of Durham, had supported James in his obnoxious measures, had fled at the outbreak of the Revolution, had been lurking on the coast for a vessel to convey him abroad, and had returned in time to secure the advantage of supporting the new Sovereign. It has often been said that the Bishops accomplished the Revolution. No doubt the seven imprisoned in the Tower brought on the crisis which terminated in the new settlement, and so far were the authors of the change. Certain of the brethren contributed, in the way I have described, to terminate the despotism of James II., but all the seven decidedly disapproved of the Prince of Orange being constituted King, and two-thirds of the other Bishops agreed with them in this respect.

1689.

The Commons would not unite in the settlement approved by the Lords until they had carefully asserted the fundamental principles upon which they based the Revolution. The Declaration of Right, embodying these principles, having recited the unconstitutional acts of James—his endeavours to extirpate the Protestant religion, and to subvert the laws and liberties of the kingdom—goes on to state that the Prince of Orange had summoned the Convention, which Convention did now specify the ancient liberties of the English people. Amongst them appear the right of petition, freedom of Parliamentary debate, and the duty of the Crown frequently to call together the representatives of the people.[105] William and Mary are then solemnly declared to be King and Queen; the succession is determined to be in the issue of the latter; in default of such issue, in Anne of Denmark and her heirs; in default of her issue, then in the heirs of the King.

CHARACTER OF THE REVOLUTION.

In this Parliamentary transaction two things appear, which have been ever kept in sight under Anglo-Saxon and Anglo-Norman dynasties, namely, hereditary right and popular election. That the crown should pass from a Monarch to one of his own blood had been a fundamental law from the beginning, modified by a choice of the people in any great crisis, when the interests of the nation have been seen to depend upon the succession of one Royal personage rather than another. In 1688, respect was paid to the ancient tradition. In the Bill of Rights the hereditary claim is distinctly set forth. “It is curious to observe with what address this temporary solution of continuity is kept from the eye, whilst all that could be found in this act of necessity to countenance the idea of an hereditary succession is brought forward and fostered and made the most of.” “The Lords and Commons fall to a pious, legislative ejaculation, and declare that they consider it ‘as a marvellous providence, and merciful goodness of God to this nation, to preserve their said Majesties’ royal persons, most happily to reign over us on the throne of their ancestors, for which, from the bottom of their hearts, they return their humblest thanks and praises.’”[106]

But the election of William and Mary, though veiled under a reference to the throne of their ancestors, is really the point upon which their accession hinged. Mary’s accession might, by those who disbelieved that the Prince of Wales was James’ son, be made to depend entirely on natural descent, but the accession of William could not rest on that ground; his election was essential to the legitimacy of his rights. Yet there was no setting aside of any divine laws, no contempt for the teaching of Scripture, as was pretended by nonjurors. When we are told “the powers that be are ordained of God,” those words invest with divine authority all constitutional governments, whether Monarchical or Republican, whether entirely by descent or wholly by election, or partly by one and partly by the other; they do not apply alone to Kings and their eldest sons. To plead nonjuring interpretations of Scripture in England at the Revolution tended to make men slaves, even as to plead them now in America would make men rebels.

1689.

The oaths of allegiance prescribed, as they led to momentous consequences, ought to be given. “I, A. B., do sincerely promise and swear, That I will be faithful, and bear true allegiance to their Majesties King William and Queen Mary. So help me God.” “I, A. B., do swear, That I do from my heart abhor, detest, and abjure, as impious and heretical, this damnable doctrine and position, That Princes excommunicated or deprived by the Pope, or any authority of the See of Rome, may be deposed or murdered by their subjects, or any other whatsoever. And I do declare, That no foreign prince, person, prelate, state or potentate, hath, or ought to have, any jurisdiction, power, superiority, pre-eminence, or authority, ecclesiastical or spiritual, within this realm. So help me God.”[107]

CHARACTER OF THE REVOLUTION.

Before the completion of this Parliamentary manifesto, the Princess Mary had come to England; and upon the 13th of February she took her place beside her husband in the Banqueting-house at Whitehall under a canopy of State, when the two Speakers, followed by the Lords and Commons respectively, were conducted into their presence by the Usher of the Black Rod, to offer the Crown upon conditions implied in the Declaration of Rights. When the document had been read, the Prince replied, “This is certainly the greatest proof of the trust you have in us that can be given, which is the thing which makes us value it the more; and we thankfully accept what you have offered to us. And as I had no other intention in coming hither, than to preserve your religion, laws, and liberties, so you may be sure that I shall endeavour to support them, and shall be willing to concur in anything that shall be for the good of the kingdom; and to do all that is in my power to advance the welfare and glory of the nation.” The day on which this tender was accepted, saw once more the gorgeous ceremonial by which Kings and Queens in England had been proclaimed. A long line of coaches passed from Westminster to the City, with a brilliant array of marshals’ men, trumpeters, and heralds. A pause at Temple Bar at the Gates, and then a formal opening took place in due order. The Lord Mayor in a coach, and the Aldermen, Sheriffs, and Recorder on horseback, conducted the Peers and Commons to the middle of Cheapside—the train bands lining the way. Then, after declaring that God had vouchsafed a miraculous deliverance from Popery and arbitrary power through His Highness the Prince of Orange, and after referring to the great and eminent virtue of Her Highness the Princess, whose zeal for the Protestant religion was sure to bring a blessing upon this nation—the heralds proclaimed William and Mary “King and Queen of England, France, and Ireland, with all the dominions and territories thereunto belonging.”[108]

1689.

That evening, the Queen sent two of her Chaplains to the Archbishop of Canterbury to beg his blessing; and, by a suspicious combination of two errands, desired them to attend the service in Lambeth Chapel, and notice whether prayers were offered for the Sovereigns. The Chaplain being alarmed, asked His Grace what should be done: he replied, “I have no new instructions to give.” The Chaplain interpreted this as entrusting him with a discretionary power, and, wishing to keep the Primate out of difficulty, prayed for the King and Queen who had just been proclaimed. The act provoked Sancroft, who sent for the Chaplain, and commanded him either to desist from such petitions, or to cease from officiating in Lambeth; for so long as King James lived, no other person could be Sovereign of England. Sancroft’s conviction that a Regency was the right thing seems to have deepened, when in the opinion of everybody else it passed utterly out of the question; for the Primate had a temper which increased in obstinacy in proportion as the object pursued became unattainable.

CHARACTER OF THE REVOLUTION.

1689.

The appointment of officers of State immediately followed the accession to the throne. The reader will bear in mind what has been said in former volumes respecting the mode of administering affairs in the Stuart reigns. No Ministry, in our sense of the term, existed then, men of different political opinions being employed as functionaries of Government. This usage survived the Revolution; and William surrounded himself with Whigs and Tories. Reserving to himself the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, he appointed as President of the Council the Earl of Danby, although that nobleman differed from him in many opinions. Danby had countenanced encroachments by the Royal prerogatives; he had even maintained the doctrine of passive obedience. That doctrine he was now, through the necessities of the times, forced to abandon, and by serving under a Monarch whose throne rested on the Declaration of Rights, he virtually repudiated his earlier opinions. He had also persecuted Dissenters—a policy now professedly abandoned. Yet there remained in Lord Danby a strong attachment to high ecclesiastical views, and he was zealous for the old connection between Church and Crown as the best method of preserving both. Halifax, described as the Trimmer,[109] had become more of a Liberal, and to him was entrusted the Privy Seal and the Speakership of the Upper House. The Earl of Nottingham—another deserter from the Tory ranks—professed that although his principles did not allow him to take part in making William King, they bound him, now that the deed was done, to pay His Majesty a more strict obedience than he could expect from those who had made him Sovereign. He accepted the office of a Secretary of State—an act which, like that of Danby, served to give weight to the new administration in the eyes of Tories and High Churchmen. Shrewsbury, a popular Whig, and a young man of twenty-eight, was the other Secretary. The Great Seal came into the hands of Commissioners, the chief of whom was Sir John Maynard, who had upheld the Petition of Rights in 1628, had voted with the country party in the struggles preceding the Civil Wars, had subscribed the League and Covenant, and had advised Cromwell to accept the Crown. He was ninety years of age, and when presented to William at Whitehall the Prince remarked, he must have survived all the lawyers of his time. He replied, “he had like to have outlived the law itself, if His Highness had not come over.”[110] The Treasury fell into the hands of Whigs, amongst whom was Godolphin, the husband of Margaret Blagge, a man of practical ability, but of no fixed principle, a staunch Churchman, yet one of a class that could live amongst Jesuits under King James, and could keep on terms with Presbyterians under King William.

This administration—a Joseph’s coat of many colours—proceeded from a compromise which under existing circumstances seemed unavoidable. Intended to please different parties, it actually displeased them—a fact soon manifested. But no political appointment aroused so much criticism as the nomination of Burnet to the See of Salisbury. That See had become vacant through the death of Seth Ward; and it was the first piece of ecclesiastical preferment of which William had to dispose after his accession to the throne. The nomination of Bishops in our own time has occasionally provoked immense discussion, but perhaps nobody ever stepped up to the Episcopal Bench amidst such showers of abuse as Gilbert Burnet. To select a High Churchman would have been inconsistent and disastrous; and amongst eligible Low Churchmen, no one had such strong claims upon William as the friend whom he and his wife had consulted at the Hague, the Chaplain who had come with his Fleet, the Secretary who had drawn up his Declarations, and the clergyman who had advocated his cause from the pulpit. But the very grounds upon which rested Burnet’s claims made him the more objectionable to many. These grounds were decidedly political, yet though many a Bishop has been appointed for political reasons, the services now enumerated were not exactly such as to indicate qualification for the office of a spiritual overseership. At the same time it is unfair to Burnet’s memory not to say, that he was a man of piety, Protestant zeal, varied learning, large experience, and indefatigable industry. At a later period, after time had worn down the asperities of the controversy, a mitre could with much propriety have been given him; but it was scarcely in accordance with William’s policy in political appointments to bestow it at once upon one who had obtrusively acted as a partisan, and inspired so much dislike in the opposite party. It should be further stated that many Churchmen were deeply offended at Burnet’s elevation, because they had a strong aversion to what they call his Latitudinarian and Low Church views. Consequently, when it came to the point of sanctioning by consecration the Royal nominee, a difficulty arose. The Dean and Chapter of Salisbury were as prompt to elect as the King to propose; but the Archbishop of Canterbury no sooner heard of the congé d’élire, than he refused to engage in the requisite solemnity. Burnet himself goes so far as to say that Sancroft refused even to see him on the subject.[111] No friendly influence could induce the Primate to swerve from his determination; but by an evasion, such as unfortunately too often commends itself to clerical judgments, he resolved to grant a commission for others to do what he declined to do himself. The Vicar-General appeared, produced the commission, and through his officers received the usual fees. To make the matter worse, when the Archbishop’s conduct was complained of by his own party, either he, or some one in his name, contrived to abstract the document from the Registrar’s office; and it could not be recovered until after Sancroft’s death, when Burnet threatened to commence legal proceedings for obtaining what was necessary to prove the validity of his consecration and his right to the Bishopric.[112]

CHARACTER OF THE REVOLUTION.

1689.

Some Churchmen soon manifested their dissatisfaction with the turn affairs had taken; and Maynard, the first Commissioner of the Great Seal, remarked, in a debate upon making the Convention a Parliament, “There is a great danger in sending out writs at this time, if you consider what a ferment the nation is in; and I think the Clergy are out of their wits, and I believe, if the Clergy should have their wills, few or none of us should be here again.” The remark brought up Sir Thomas Clarges, who defended the Ministers in the Metropolis, and praised the Church as a bulwark during the late trials. “Clarges speaks honestly,” replied Maynard, “as I believe he thinks. As for the Clergy, I have much honour for High and Low of them; but I must say they are in a ferment—there are pluralists among them, and when they should preach the Gospel, they preach against the Parliament and the law of England.”[113] At a moment when some showed dissatisfaction towards William, and the highest legal officer of the Crown thus talked about Churchmen, Lord Danby complained to His Majesty that he did all he could to encourage Presbyterians, and to dishearten Episcopalians—a circumstance which, he said, could not fail to be prejudicial to his Government and to himself.[114] It is certain that no sooner had William as King of England grasped the reins, than intrigues became rife; thoughts arose of bringing back James, and men in office began to express a want of confidence in the New Settlement. Halifax muttered something to the effect that if the exiled King were a Protestant, he could not be kept out four months; and Danby, that if the exile would but give satisfaction as to Religion, “it would be very hard to make head against him.”[115]

CHARACTER OF THE REVOLUTION.

Still, however, a large number of Clergymen not only accepted the new order of things, but heartily espoused the cause of the new dynasty. Besides those dignitaries who assisted in raising William and Mary to the throne, many in the lower ranks, by exhortations from the pulpit, arguments from the press, and the exercise of private influence, sought to gather up popular affection, and weave it around the chosen occupants of the throne. It may be worth while to mention that Samuel Wesley, Rector of Epworth, the father of John, founder of Methodism, states that he wrote and printed the first publication which appeared in defence of the Government; and he also composed “many little pieces more, both in prose and verse, with the same view.”[116]